Hello, I'm Echowood. You can call me "Echo" but, around here, everybody just calls me "The Old Guy." I want to thank the editor, Scaramouch, for urging me to speak with you directly. You see, I'm a little bit concerned. I don't think I'm making it on the blog. I'm a funny guy but I haven't been so funny on YesButNotButYes. My friends say, "How come they're givin' you all those topics that aren't funny?" Well, it's not the material. It's me.
It's not that I'm not funny, it's that I'm not being funny in the right moments. Honest. Uh, before, you know, I could be funny whenever I wanted but now, as a professional, I have to learn to pick my spots, you know? This morning, I picked up my laundry. The guy says to me, "Echo, you know, every time you come in here, you say something funny. But I read your article on Strange Maps and it stunk." Well, that hurt, you know? Just totally destroyed my confidence.
Last Friday, I went to a party with Johnny. There was a pretty girl there I wanted to impress and, uh, I'm a party animal. I was very funny. Johnny said nothing. He was saving it. She said to me, "You're so funny! I wish I had a tape recorder." Well, I wish she had, too, you know? After the party, when she went home with Johnny, I could've played the tape back for her.
Now, what I'm asking for is your support. I've gotten some nice letters from old friends and people I owe money to. But, from you people, I hear nothing. I'm not asking for comments but -- I know this sounds corny -- support. I'm a severely lapsed Episcopalian. I'm one of two children. I was raised in Fairfield, Connecticut, a small mining town, north of New York-- That reminds me of something funny. My father is still alive and well. No, that's not what was funny. He is funny. People always said to me, "Aw, you'll never grow up to be as funny as your dad." And, now, he's so put off by my articles that he doesn't even ready YesButNoButYes anymore. My brother Eric is an artist. My mom works to support the family. But that's all beside the point. It's no concern of yours whether or not they need the money I make off people reading my articles.
What I'm talking about is between you and me. If you could see it in your heart to laugh whenever I write something. I don't care what it is. Or, if you can't laugh, think about my family ... and my disapproving father. If I know you're on my side, I'll make you laugh so hard, you'll have to hold your sides to keep from pulling a muscle - or tearing a cartilage. It's up to you. Yeah, you. Now, I don't want letters. I just want to make it as a featured writer at YesButNoButYes. When that's done, I'll be able to sit here at my computer, in the middle of New York City, New York, one-oh-oh-two-three ... and say, "Dad? I did it." He'd like that.
(Thanks Bill)
Last Friday, I went to a party with Johnny. There was a pretty girl there I wanted to impress and, uh, I'm a party animal. I was very funny. Johnny said nothing. He was saving it. She said to me, "You're so funny! I wish I had a tape recorder." Well, I wish she had, too, you know? After the party, when she went home with Johnny, I could've played the tape back for her.
Now, what I'm asking for is your support. I've gotten some nice letters from old friends and people I owe money to. But, from you people, I hear nothing. I'm not asking for comments but -- I know this sounds corny -- support. I'm a severely lapsed Episcopalian. I'm one of two children. I was raised in Fairfield, Connecticut, a small mining town, north of New York-- That reminds me of something funny. My father is still alive and well. No, that's not what was funny. He is funny. People always said to me, "Aw, you'll never grow up to be as funny as your dad." And, now, he's so put off by my articles that he doesn't even ready YesButNoButYes anymore. My brother Eric is an artist. My mom works to support the family. But that's all beside the point. It's no concern of yours whether or not they need the money I make off people reading my articles.
What I'm talking about is between you and me. If you could see it in your heart to laugh whenever I write something. I don't care what it is. Or, if you can't laugh, think about my family ... and my disapproving father. If I know you're on my side, I'll make you laugh so hard, you'll have to hold your sides to keep from pulling a muscle - or tearing a cartilage. It's up to you. Yeah, you. Now, I don't want letters. I just want to make it as a featured writer at YesButNoButYes. When that's done, I'll be able to sit here at my computer, in the middle of New York City, New York, one-oh-oh-two-three ... and say, "Dad? I did it." He'd like that.
(Thanks Bill)
It all sounded so vaguely familiar as I read, and then I saw the "Thanks Bill". I should have picked up on it sooner...such a bad SNL fan I am.
/laughs hysterically
Borrrrrring! We want beer!
Ok Echo..... It sounds like Bill Murray, but I didn't like it then either so that's not gonna work either.....
You look a LOT like Peter Krause in that photo. Just thought you may want to know.
Peter Krause is funny.
I understand your pain, but that Johnny guy is really funny!
I olo'd.
But this I promise: I will sign in when you make me laugh. Deal Echo?
Excelsior - Yeah, I get that a lot.
Rumors- Peter is funny. Just look at his light comedy work in Six Feet Under. (Though Sports Night was really funny)
Jonnie - You only think Johnny is funny because you share the same name. Also, Johnny is really funny.
Tonj- It's a deal. Stay tuned. I'm saving something up. It'll blow your mind and possibly make you defecate with laughter.
Hahahahahah~!
It's the douche bag hair, change that and you will be funny again.
I'd do you.
She would, too.